


Matching

by kams_log



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Castiel, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awesome Castiel, Awesome Dean, Awkward Castiel, Awkward Dean, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/kams_log
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Jimmy were best friends as children. They did everything together, always running across yards and having sword fights, and sometimes sitting under trees and counting leaves and making shapes out of the shadows cast by the sun on warm summer evenings. Until one day, Jimmy moves away, and Dean is left reeling without his best friend.</p><p>Time passes, and ten years later, they meet again. But Jimmy is now Castiel, and everything is different. But Dean doesn’t seem to feel that way. Maybe that’s not a bad thing.</p><p>The adventures of Agender!Castiel and his fumbling, never judging, boyfriend Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on a headcanon my lovely friend Mo sent me. here's the original post on tumblr: http://lovefromdean.tumblr.com/post/126568955777/ive-had-this-forever-idea-about-a-story-where
> 
> This story shouldn't be too long. I'm guessing ten chapters at the most. It's written in a similar style to my other story 'Ages', so I hope you guys enjoy it! Here's chapter one.

 

His name was Jimmy Novak. He was Dean’s best friend. Dean could remember countless afternoons of running around in their backyards, building forts and having adventures. Dean could remember on one memorable occasion when they went to a fair together, licking up melting ice cream their mothers had bought them as they traveled through the stalls, admiring the crafts and local artwork.

There was a medieval section of the fair, something that drew in Dean’s interest immediately. Jimmy thought it was stupid, but as soon as he had a play sword in his hands, his eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed with excitement. Dean was sure they spent hours in the spray painted ring, clashing their wooden blades together until they were sweaty and in need of more ice cream.

He was the best friend Dean ever had. He couldn’t imagine ever living without his friend.

But they were nearly ten years old when Jimmy threw rocks on his bedroom window, waking him up in the dead of night. Dean opened his curtains, spotting his friend’s tear stained face in the moonlight. He unlocked the window and pulled his friend through the opening.

Jimmy’s father had gotten a new job halfway across the country. He didn’t know if he’d ever get to see Dean again.

Jimmy cried. Dean tried not to, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. He simply pulled Jimmy under his sheets and they fell asleep staring at the ceiling, wondering what the next day would bring.

The next day nothing happened. Jimmy’s family packed up for their move for just short of a month. Dean spent all of that time finding ways to keep Jimmy with him, playing games, getting away from the houses and having ‘real adventures’ that they’d never been brave enough to do before.

Two nights before Jimmy had to leave, Dean organized a sleepover. They huddled under a fort of blankets and munched on popcorn, candy, and pizza. They stayed up nearly all the night, desperate to remember and cherish every moment they still had as friends, still living in the same city.

The next day was filled with lingering looks, silence that couldn’t be expressed, and a hollow presence that Dean couldn’t relieve.

He hugged Jimmy goodbye at the airport. He cried for real, that time. Jimmy didn’t do much better.

“You’ll write to me, right?” Jimmy whispered as their parents exchanged a few final words.

Dean nodded hard.

“I’ll send you a letter every day. Promise.”

Jimmy smiled and wiped his eyes. He squeezed Dean’s hand and stepped back with his family.

Dean waved as the plane took off. He had no idea if Jimmy could see him from way up in the air, but the thought of it was comforting.

He carried through on his promise. He wrote to Jimmy every day. He wrote about how annoyed he was with Sammy, and how he couldn’t get his walkman to work right. He wrote about the new pie his mom made, and how perfect it was.

“I’m gonna’ make it for you someday,” Dean wrote. “Just you wait.”

He sent all of the letters he could. Jimmy wrote back, of course. But it only lasted a few months before the letters stopped coming.

Dean’s mother looked at him sadly as she hung up the phone.

“They moved again,” she explained. “That was Mrs. Novak. They were about to board the plane so they couldn’t talk long. I’m sorry.”

“You got their new address right?” Dean asked, tugging on her skirt.

His mother sighed and took his hand in hers.

“It sounds like it might be complicated.” It was the tone she used when she was about to say something he wouldn’t like. He’d learned it well over the years, especially over the dinner table when it came to eating his vegetables or when grandpa passed away.

He wasn’t going to like it. Dean didn’t want to hear it.

“We have an address for now,” his mom said, pressing a small note into his hand. “But honey… it’ll probably change again soon. I’m sorry.”

Dean ran straight to his room and bunkered down at his desk. He wrote two letters that night. He wanted to make sure Jimmy knew how much Dean cared about him. If they never got to see each other again, that was awful enough. If he could never talk to Jimmy too, that would be worse.

He needed to make every word count. He needed to make sure Jimmy knew Dean would always think of him as his best friend. It was _important_.

The next morning he went with his mom to the post office, where he bought his favorite Star Trek stamps and rubbed his fist over them until they were flat against the envelope. He pushed them through the box, and then, they were out to be delivered.

He never got a letter back.

His mom tried to reassure him that Jimmy got his letter. The reply probably just got lost somewhere. It’d come eventually.

That’s what she said anyway. But it never did.

Dean still wrote letters, though. He wrote them, put stickers on them instead of stamps, and hid them in a shoebox under his bed. He knew Jimmy had probably moved again. He didn’t have an address anymore, or a phone number.

Jimmy was lost to him, and it wasn’t fair.

He turned twelve and his mom suggested trying to find a new best friend. He didn’t have many anymore. It was probably because he was still bitter about losing Jimmy. Dean didn’t really care. But he knew his parents were starting to worry. They didn’t want antisocial sons. They wanted happy and friendly sons.

It was for that reason only that Dean wrote one final letter on his twelfth birthday. It read simply, “I miss you. I wish you’d come back.”

He put it in his shoebox, but this time, placed it at the top of his closet.

The next day he went to school and made a conscious effort to make new friends.

He got lucky. He met Charlie, a girl who liked Star Trek and knew more about his favorite shows than he did. He liked her instantly.

He also met Benny and Victor, as well as Jo Harvelle, a girl who’d moved in on his street a few months back but he’d never felt the need to meet.

They were good friends. They were kind, and supportive, and didn’t make him feel bad for talking about Jimmy when he got lonely sometimes. They were understanding. He learned about some of their old friends. He heard good stories, some sad, some bad. But in the end, they all had stories about friends they’d lost before junior high could start. Good friends, the best friends.

And now, Dean had new friends. Good friends. He loved them dearly. He loved them all through middle school and high school. He loved them through graduation. He loved them when they all started looking at colleges.

They were the best friends anybody could ask for. But in the end, Dean still found himself missing Jimmy every once in a while. His face would spring to his mind, unbidden, but always welcome. He remembered the good times, the adventures, the swords fights and lawn racing.

He missed Jimmy, still, even now.

Dean was packing for college. His sheets and blankets were packed up. His toiletries were in a bag and ready to go. Everything he needed was already out in the car and waiting for him to join them.

But there was one last thing he was missing.

He pulled down the shoebox from the top of his old closet. He looked at the letters inside.

Dean smiled.

The box sat in the passenger seat of his Impala as he drove to Kansas University.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! next chapter! thank you so much for your comments. they were lovely and helped motivate me for this next piece.
> 
> ***NOTE***: 
> 
> Even though Cas is Agender in this fic, I'm writing from my own point of view as a gender-neutral human being. Most of the time, I myself don't care if I'm referred to as a she, or they, or anything else. (Another example is Ruby Rose. Even though she is Agender, she's asked that people call her she/her because it makes it easier on others and she doesn't mind.) In THIS FIC, Castiel is kind of a mix of that. He doesn't MIND being called 'he', per say, but even he has days where he doesn't like it and wishes to be called something on his terms. I hope this helps.
> 
> Thank you! Please enjoy the chapter!

He. _He_. Castiel breathed in deeply and kept his gaze carefully level, making sure not to squint too hard and make his parents think he was glaring. Again. He sighed inwardly and focused on his lap, playing with the fraying edges of his jeans.

Truth be told, he actually didn’t _care_ if anyone called him a ‘he.’ He, her, did it really matter? None of them worked. Not really. He didn’t care if it was easier for everyone else to just call him ‘he.’

But it was annoying when his parents said ‘he’ nearly forty times in the space of ten minutes.

It shouldn’t have been important. They were only talking to the movers they hired, dealing with getting all of his personal affects and materials to the university.

Normally, Castiel would handle those details himself. But his parents were nothing but micromanagers. He’d be lucky to escape unscathed.

At least the name on his paperwork read ‘Castiel Novak.’ That was a decency Castiel could not put words to.

“Castiel!” His mother called, catching his attention. He looked up from where he sat on the front porch. His parents stood only ten feet away, easily heard, but still his mother felt the need to shout. Typical.

“Yes?” He asked.

Lines filled her face, probably meant to be a smile, but came across tense and strained. His father didn’t look much different.

“The movers are leaving now. You’ll need to hurry to arrive at the same time as them.”

He didn’t miss the way their eyes dragged over his body, assessing, calculating, judging. Those were expressions he’d seen all his life. Not just from the students at every new school he attended, but most often at home when he wasn’t allowed to hide away in his room all day.

Disappointment. It was a poison.

“Are you sure-” His mother started, but he was already standing and walking down the steps.

“Yes,” he interrupted. “I plan on going like this.”

Her lips pursed, clearly holding back her ‘listen-to-me-I’m-your-mother’ voice. Instead, she nodded curtly, and stepped out of his way so he could get to his car.

“Have fun!” She called, waving again. Castiel only nodded, forcing a reassuring smile to his face as he waved back.

His father wasn’t smiling. But he was waving. Castiel considered it an improvement.

“Call us as soon as you get there.”

“I’ll try,” Castiel said. It wasn’t a promise. They all knew it. But it relieved the tension, so Castiel felt no regret in saying it.

He pulled out of the driveway and followed the route the movers had taken.

It was going to be a long drive.

…

He filled the nearly endless road with mix-tapes he’d collected over the years, and audible books that he’d never had the time to read.

It was boring as hell, and there weren’t nearly enough beak stops to relieve his aching muscles.

He’d never driven this many hours in a row before. He was beginning to deeply regret his decision to go to Kansas University.

He wasn’t sure why he chose the college in the first place. Maybe it was a desire to be closer to his original home? To go back to the place that had once been stable and reassuring, or to reclaim his old identity, perhaps? He didn’t know.

But he could remember his friend Dean. Dean, who wrote him a letter every day of the first six months after he moved away. Dean, who made sure Castiel knew just how much he missed him.

Castiel often wondered what it would be like to meet Dean again. He wondered if Dean would still want to be his friend, now, after everything had changed.

Castiel wasn’t Jimmy anymore. To be honest, he never really was. But Dean didn’t know that, and meeting him again after all these years would only cause difficulty and destroy whatever happiness Castiel still cherished from his childhood.

When he finally arrived at the university, he audibly groaned in relief. He jumped out of the car quickly, not caring who watched as he stretched his arms over his head, listening to the musical pop of aching joints and stretch of tired muscles.

When he lowered his arms, he could spot a few students who had stopped to stare, whisper. But he didn’t care. He grabbed his bags out of the trunk of his Continental, hating when it squeaked and groaned when he closed it again.

He slung the bags over his shoulders, looked up at the school, and sighed.

The school was big. Bigger than he’d been expecting.

A look around showed the movers nowhere in sight.

He sighed again and adjusted his bags. It was time to go in and find out who his roommate was going to be.

Inside the school was just as big and grand as the outside. He felt tiny, microscopic as he shuffled across the hardwood floors in search of someone he could talk to.

It didn’t take long. Soon enough, he was holding a clipboard and was confirming his dorm room registration.

“What are you majoring in?” The woman behind the counter asked, all cheery eyes and smiles.

Castiel glanced at her and looked back at the clipboard.

“I’ll be working for a degree in teaching,” Castiel replied. “Preferably in literature and linguistics.”

“That sounds… excellent.”

She had the same look as his parents. The elevator eyes, the skeptical eyebrows fighting to be neutral.

Castiel refrained from sighing and nodded.

“Thank you.”

The woman, Daphne, her name tag said, pulled out a second clipboard and scanned it carefully.

“Well, you’re in luck! Your roommate is also studying for a degree in teaching… for math.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow.

“What’s their name?”

“Dean Winchester.”

Castiel’s eyes bulged. He dropped his bag.

“I-Is there a middle name?”

“Middle initial, ‘M?’”

 _Michael_. Castiel swore. Dean. Michael. Winchester. His roommate.

He vaguely heard Daphne give him a room number. He nodded, numb, and accepted a key, a map to the dorms, and pamphlet to get his student ID photo taken.

He picked up his bag and started walking towards the dorms. He wondered if he was still breathing.

…

 _“No, I’m_ fine,” Dean said again, maybe for the hundredth time. “My room’s _great_ Sammy. It’s huge. But it’s just so… so… so _tacky_. Oh my God, I think my roommate’s a _hipster_.”

He couldn’t help himself. Whoever those movers were that came in, they were _quick_. They came in every five seconds, carrying one massive box after another. As soon as they left, one of them fell over, and Dean rushed to pick up the contents and put them back in the box.

That was when Sam called, asking about the room and campus.

“ _What do you mean, they’re a hipster?_ ” Sam asked from the other line as Dean hurriedly shoved in the last articles of clothing and… other things.

“Well, I’m pretty sure they don’t mix girls and guys together in these dorms. But this guy has a crop top. There was also a silver sparkle belt and, uh, girl stuff. If he has a girlfriend, I plan on knowing about it before things get awkward.”

“ _You might be overreacting._ ”

“I’m not overreacting!” Dean exclaimed, standing up and shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m probably gonna’ be stuck with this guy for at least a year. I don’t want to be stuck with a guy I can’t stand, you know?”

He looked around the room and sighed.

It was big. Just as he’d told Sam, it was huge. Bigger than other dorm rooms he’d seen, there was enough space for two decently sized single beds. Dean’s was even big enough to fit his six foot frame. There was space for two desks, two dressers, and enough wall space to really deck out the place.

It would be great… as long as his roommate didn’t listen to hippie trash and paint cartoon rainbows and sun drops on the walls.

He shuddered.

“Look, I’m gonna’ try and be nice. But if he’s a weirdo, all bets are off. Okay?”

“ _Do whatever, Dean,_ ” Sam replied. “ _Just call me and let me know how the first meeting goes. And hey, if all else fails, at least Charlie and Benny are there._ ”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, they are. I’ll talk to you later, kiddo.”

“ _I’m not a kid, Dean._ ”

“Sure you aren’t.”

He heard the doorknob twist. His roommate must have arrived. He rolled his eyes and quickly muttered a goodbye to Sam, ignoring his protests, and quickly rushed to shove the rest of the guy’s stuff in the box.

The lock turned and the door swung open.

“Sorry man,” Dean said, hoping he didn’t look like he’d been digging around. “The movers got here as I was setting up, knocked some of your stuff over. I didn’t mean to look-”

He stopped when he realized his roommate wasn’t speaking, or yelling. Dean stood and wiped his hands off on his jeans, ready to apologize big time if he had to, and stopped cold where he stood.

Jimmy. It was Jimmy. He would recognize those blue eyes and black hair anywhere.

In the back of his mind, he vaguely noted the skinny jeans, the pink shirt that read ‘ _Angel Bitches_ ’, and the purple and blue bags slung over his shoulders. It wasn’t the most normal dress code he’d ever seen, especially not on Jimmy, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all.

“J-Jimmy?” Dean whispered, daring not break the moment. He could have sworn his roommate was some dude named Cas. Was he dreaming?

Jimmy stared back at him, blinking slowly. That’s when the bags dropped, and the enormous grin Dean would recognize any day split across his face. Jimmy’s eyes looked shiny.

“Damn,” Dean swore. He didn’t waste a second. He swung forward and pulled Jimmy into his arms. Jimmy hugged back just as fiercely.

It felt warm. It felt like _childhood_. Dean grinned. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Jimmy muttered into his shoulder. Dean laughed, pulling tighter.

“Me neither.”

“Do you believe in coincidences?” Jimmy asked.

Dean shook his head.

“Never. But I’m pretty interested in it now.”

Jimmy laughed. “Of course you’d say that.”

It was the best thing Dean heard in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! The next chapter will focus primarily on how their relationship is going to develop with Dean re-learning Castiel's name and also some of the details of how Cas has changed over the years. I hope you guys will like it~!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i would have updated a day or two ago but college classes started for me and i was planning a youth event for my local church. just got home from it tonight, actually :) it turned out great.
> 
> so anyway, as a reward for achieving all the crazy stuff in my life, here is the next chapter for you guys! i hope you like it!
> 
> apologies for any mistakes, i'll proof-check it later :) ALSO NOTE for the story, there is mentions of being trans in this chapter. while castiel is NOT trans i'm going to attempt to show that being gender neutral and agender doesn't play by gender rules, some people mistake it for transitioning to another gender. this is not the case for castiel, but i thought it was worth looking into as far as dialogue. 
> 
> ALSO I DO NOT BELIEVE IN SHARING IF SOMEONE IS TRANS. THAT IS UP TO THE TRANS PERSON AND SHOULDN'T BE DISCLOSED BY ANYONE BUT THEM OR WITH THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION. THANK YOU. please enjoy the chapter!

The next two hours were filled with nothing but laughter, shared stories, and setting up their dorm. It was nothing special at first. Just pinned up posters of Dean’s favorite shows and bands, as well as a collection of artwork and motivational posters for Jimmy.

Dean loved it. He loved how all of their things meshed together. Dean’s clashing blues and greens, and all of Jimmy’s blues and purples.

“It looks like Barney in here,” Dean joked as he stuffed his clothes into the dresser.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and replied, “Barney was only purple and green. There’s too much blue.”

“Hey, we could always change it.”

Jimmy chuckled and nodded. He set up a lamp on the stand next to his bed and sighed, eyes roaming over his white sheets and blue bedspread, then glancing over to Dean’s, all green sheets and black pillows.

Dean grinned and jumped on it, bouncing gleefully as he said, “It’s got _memory foam_ , Jimmy. It _remembers_ me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I like to think I’m adorable.”

Jimmy flushed and smiled bright. Dean noted the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled. It was like his face was entirely invested in it, showing off the true measure of his happiness. Dean could remember Jimmy’s eyes wrinkling when they were little too. But everyone else always thought he was only squinting.

Dean knew better though. It seemed those laughing lines had finally grown more prominent.

“So where was your favorite place?” Dean asked, rolling over to snatch a baseball off his nightstand. “Back when you were moving. I lost track of you after New Hampshire.”

Jimmy shrugged and sat down, grabbing his bag off the floor so he could dig through it.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I had a fondness for Arizona. The heat was nearly unbearable, but despite outsider opinion, it is very beautiful there.”

“How many places did you end up?” Dean asked, tossing the ball between his hands, up in the air.

Jimmy shrugged and smiled awkwardly. “I stopped counting after four. I figured it wasn’t worth the effort of worrying about it.”

Dean shrugged and nodded. “I think I understand.”

Jimmy pulled out a few photos from his bag and set them on his nightstand. Dean leaned over, uncaring if he was being obvious, and grinned at the pictures.

They were all of Jimmy and his family, all in different locations. There was one on a beach with Jimmy in a light purple tank top and board shorts, his parents on either side of him. Jimmy looked like he was twelve.

The second photo was of Jimmy and someone Dean didn’t recognize. A young woman with red hair sat beside the young adult Dean immediately recognized as his friend. The two were sitting on a park bench with smoothies. They were both smiling bright, and Jimmy was wearing a trenchcoat.

Dean chuckled and touched the frame, looking at it carefully. “Who’s your lady friend? A girlfriend I’ll be meeting, maybe?”

Jimmy blushed scarlet and shook his head. Dean laughed.

“No,” Jimmy exclaimed, “she’s a friend. We met in our senior year of high school. She really helped me when I was going through some… things.” Jimmy smiled fondly, finger tracing the woman’s outline. “Her name is Anna. She’s going to school in California. She made me promise to skype though.”

“You like her,” Dean teased.

This time, Jimmy rolled his eyes and smacked Dean’s hand away. “I suppose you’re a chick magnet now. With a face like that…”

“Aw, you calling me hot, Jimmy?” Dean laughed and set his ball down. “Not that it matters. I swing both ways these days.”

When his gaze traveled back to his friend, his smile faltered.

Jimmy’s shoulders were drawn back, hands clasped tight in his lap. His gaze was focused on his lap. Dean raised an eyebrow, about to ask what was wrong, but Jimmy spoke first.

“Actually, I figured I should tell you now, but, I go by Castiel now.”

“W-What?” Dean asked, surprised. He’d been expecting some kind of homophobic response, or a pronounced, ‘I’m gay.’ He didn’t expect… _that_.

“Castiel?” He repeated, just to be sure.

Jimmy nodded solemnly, eyes slowly traveling back up to meet his. “Anna helped me pick it out in our senior year. It was… my favorite. I hope you don’t mind.”

Castiel. Dean rolled it over in his head, worked his mouth around it. It felt… foreign. He was looking at Jimmy, right? But Jimmy said it was Castiel now.

Dean thought about it for a moment. Then for another. He could only think of one thing to say.

“Is it okay if I call you Cas? I don’t think I can nail that many syllables at once.”

Jimmy laughed suddenly, sharp and piercing. His eyes were bright and crinkled at the edges. Dean smiled.

“Yes,” he laughed. “Cas is fine. Thanks.”

Dean chuckled and nodded.

Jimmy- _Cas_ , he reminded himself, stood and set his bag on the bed. “So, should we finish cleaning this place up?”

“Sure thing Cas.”

…

They didn’t talk about the name change any further than that. Dean felt it would be imposing to ask. They’d only just met each other again after nearly a decade apart. They had a lot to catch up on. Obviously they were both different, but Dean was determined to not let it phase him.

How often did people get second chances with their long lost childhood friends?

They had a good number of the same classes. They were both looking into teaching degrees after all. But they were interested in different subjects, so naturally, they wouldn’t get to see each other all the time.

Dean wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

The first month was easy, but interesting. Dean had to remind himself daily not to shout, “Jimmy!” across the halls and fields, and he definitely had to stop doing double takes whenever Castiel stepped out of the bathroom, wearing some new clothing combination Dean hadn’t seen most guys ever wear before.

He didn’t want to ask. He felt it wasn’t his place. But one thing was abundantly clear. The crop tops didn’t belong to a girlfriend.

But _damn_ if Cas didn’t pull them off. It was growing difficult to keep his wandering eyes away from Cas's midsection. He didn’t want to creep out his friend, after all.

Otherwise, they got along perfectly. It was like pressing play on an old forgotten movie, catching up right where it left off, nothing forgotten and waiting to get moving again.

Castiel was just as skeptical as he was when they were ten. He raised his eyebrows at everything from Dean’s music collection to the new shows Dean was obsessed with. So what if Dean got him hooked on _Dr. Sexy MD_. Cas still found reasons to squint and point out the glaring ‘obviousness’ of how each relationship was ‘doomed’ to fail.

He also had a strange fixation on all things healthy, like honey and kale, but could devour hamburgers like they were air. After one late night with them and Dean’s buddies, Cas was now hailed as the Burger Champion.

Dean didn’t get it. He didn’t understand how his old friend Jimmy had become so diverse, multi-depth. It was like he was a combination of everything, but still so perfectly _him_ that it left Dean reeling and awestruck.

He loved it. But it also drove him crazy at one in the morning when Cas’s hippie music wouldn’t stop repeating, or when Cas left his clothes and textbooks lying everywhere, yet always found time to make his bed and organize his dresser.

Cas was weird. But he was a _good_ weird. Dean felt like he was learning more about him everyday, and it still wasn’t enough. Dean found himself looking forward to every morning.

He found himself thinking less about Castiel’s name, or his odd habits and choices in clothing. He almost didn’t care anymore. Compared to everything else that made Cas who he was, it had become a background noise in his mind, something important, but now secondary to everything else.

It was why Dean found himself startled near the beginning of their third month at school, when they parted ways for classes and Benny spoke up, “So… is Cas trans?”

Dean stopped dead in the hallway. His eyes widened in surprise, staring at Benny like he’d spoken a foreign language.

“What?” He asked, unsure he’d heard Benny right.

But Benny shrugged and waved his hand. “You know, is he trans? Seems a bit… I dunno,’ extra feminine sometimes. It’s not my place ta’ ask, I know, but I jus’ wanted to make sure I’m not offendin’ him or make him uncomfortable by accident.”

Dean didn’t answer. He stared for several moments, words sinking in, until they finally registered and rung in his head.

“ _Trans_?”

His thoughts immediately flashed back to the clothes in Cas’s dresser, the same clothes that had fallen out of his boxes when he first moved into the dorms. There had definitely been girls clothes. He’d even seen Cas wearing them from time to time.

But trans? He’d changed his name, sure. But that didn’t mean Cas wasn’t a _he_ , right? Was he?

“I don’t know,” Dean replied. Benny nodded.

“Sorry. I know it ain’t a good question to ask, but he’s our friend, ya’ know? I don’ wanna’ make him uncomfortable if I can help it.”

Dean could understand that. But it definitely raised a question.

He thought about it for the rest of the day. It was on his mind as he walked back to the dorms, into their room. He dropped his bag on the bed and fell down beside it, thoughts whirling.

Was he? Dean bit his lip and thought about it.

It couldn’t hurt to ask. Right?

He heard the doorknob turning. Cas. Dean sighed and sat up.

They’d known each other for nearly three months, not counting the ten years of childhood between them. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

Dean repeated that mantra in his head as the door opened and Cas stepped inside. He was beaming.

“Hello, Dean.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! hope you guys like the next chapter. i have the next two planned out, so expect to see them in the coming days :) enjoy!

Castiel knew Dean had something on his mind. It was obvious, and it’d been going on for nearly a month now. Castiel could see it in the way he’d open his mouth, stutter out a weak, ‘Hey, uh, Cas?’ But then his face would turn red and he’d quickly look away, find some excuse that Castiel knew wasn’t what Dean was thinking about.

It was driving him insane. There was only so much staring and mumbling anyone could take.

As it turned out, Castiel finally lost his patience just before Christmas break. It had been a bad week already. His paranoia had been steadily creeping back in for a while, and once again he was getting bogged down by the constant he’s that seemed to surround everything he did.

He’d talked to Anna about it often. She was always understanding, patient. She even put up with his complaints about Dean, and how he knew the other young man was hiding something.

“Aren’t you both old friends?” She’d asked the first time he brought it up.

Castiel had huffed and groaned into his hands.

“We’re halfway through the school year,” Castiel eventually mumbled back. “Things have been… good. Not perfect, but good. Now it’s like he’s avoiding talking to me about anything important. I don’t get it.”

“You can always talk to him,” Anna replied. “He’s not going to know you’re upset unless you say something. He’s a boy, remember?”

Yes. A boy. A _he_. Castiel’s mind was swimming too much to concentrate on any of it.

It was a bad week, only added to by stress of finals and studying. Then, there was also the Christmas party Dean was determined to host before break started.

Castiel was in a self inflicted pit of misery. He wasn’t surprised he eventually snapped.

They were sitting in a Starbucks, something Dean used to be reluctant about but was now a regular customer. They had a favorite seat near the front, a booth that looked out through the open windows on the street outside. It was snowing, and Dean was drawing pitchforks and skulls in the corner of the glass window.

Castiel rolled his eyes and stirred his drink. They were supposed to be studying for their last final. They should’ve been ready weeks ago. It was all the Christmas party’s fault. Castiel was happy to help plan it, but he was beginning to wonder if the costs outweighed the benefits of hanging out with a few dozen friends before they parted ways for half the month.

He felt Dean’s eyes on him, heard the break in his breath, and knew that the question was coming. Again. And as usual, he looked up in time to see Dean’s head duck away and his fingers play with the cup in front of him.

“Dean,” Castiel stated.

Dean glanced up at him, the perfect picture of innocence. “What?”

“Stop it.”

“What--”

“ _That_. You have a question. You’ve been trying to ask for a month. Just ask. I’m tired of waiting.”

Dean’s face flushed crimson. Castiel almost felt bad. Almost. But it’d been a crummy week, and an especially crappy day. He just wanted to know what the problem was already.

Dean stuttered for a moment, eyes wide and uncertain. Castiel’s gaze narrowed as Dean swallowed, hard, noticeable.

“Y-You knew?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, again, and sighed. “ _Yes_ , Dean. You aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Oh,” Dean mumbled. He sipped at his drink, still avoiding the subject.

Castiel blinked. “Are you going to ask me what’s been on your mind or not?”

Dean flinched and set his drink down.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just, um, I’ve been meaning to ask. But Cas… are you, uh… trans?”

Castiel stared. His mind short circuited.

“Trans.” He echoed, tasting it on his lips like it was a foreign word, rather than something he was actually familiar with. “You… you think I’m trans.”

“Well… are you?” Dean asked. Castiel could see the tension rising in his friend’s shoulders, the embarrassed flush in his cheeks. Something softened inside him, and warmth flooded his chest.

“Trans,” Castiel said, again, “You thought I was trans.” He smiled and covered his face. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“W-What?” Dean exclaimed, glancing around the store anxiously. “I don't mean to be offensive or anything!”

“I know,” Castiel chuckled, eyes softening. “I know. I apologize. It’s just… that wasn’t what I expected.”

“Well, what were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Not _that_ , though.”

Dean smiled, but hesitated, fingers twiddling again anxiously. “So… are you?”

“Trans?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow. “No. I’m not, Dean.”

“Oh,” Dean said, somewhat lamely.

“So, is that it?” Castiel asked, waving him on.

Dean shrugged, still bright red in his cheeks as he nodded slowly. “Well, I don’t know. I guess I was wondering after all the… um… clothes you like to wear. Not all of it, you know… guy’s clothes.”

Castiel’s smile slowly slid off his face. Oh, he thought. That explained it. He frowned and looked down at his drink, thoughts swirling again.

“Oh, that,” Castiel mumbled. “I just like it. It’s no big deal.”

“I never said it was,” Dean said, catching Castiel off guard. He looked up at Dean, surprised to see a look of worry in his friend’s eyes. “Cas… you know I don’t _care_ what you wear, right? You’re still the best guy I know.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you don’t have to over exaggerate.”

“God, I’m not over exaggerating, Cas!” Dean pushed his now empty drink to the side and leaned forward. “Seriously, Cas. You have no idea how great it’s been getting to know you again. You’re even more awesome than we were as kids. And I’m not just saying that for fun. You’re annoying as hell and you leave all your crap lying everywhere, and you have a bizarre sense of humor, but you’re really smart and gutsy. You take dares and you’re bolder than all our friends combined. Why wouldn’t I think you’re great?”

Castiel stared at him, finding himself with a matching blush of his own.

“Fine,” he found himself muttering, fighting down a smile. “You’re ridiculous, but fine.”

Dean grinned victoriously and leaned back, folding his hands in his lap.

“So… you picking up the check or am I?”

“Ah, your cunning strategy reveals itself.”

“Ha-ha, Cas.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! we're nearing the end of this story. last night i stayed up late and wrote a few chapters ahead and made it to the end. there should be two chapters left after this, including an epilogue. i hope you guys like it!
> 
> again, my information and details regarding how i portray agender!cas is through personal experience, studies and research of agender/gender-fluid/gender-neutral celebrities, as well as personal testimonies i've read on tumblr. thank you!
> 
> apologies for any mistakes. i'll continue editing in the coming days.

The rest of the week was still stressful, and felt like wading through hell most hours, but they pulled through. Finals were over, and it was finally time to set up or the Christmas party.

They decided to host it at Benny’s house. The man had an enormous home, set up for him by his rich father that never visited or called, but liked to leave gifts to make his kids feel better about his absence. Dean once said it was over the top, but Benny would always raise an eyebrow and reply, “I ain’t complainin.’”

Castiel thought it was all a bit much. The main room was enormous. It would be easy to fit two dozen students and friends inside without any hassle. Jo, Victor, and Dean were in charge of invites, while Castiel and Benny were in charge of planning and set up. In the end, they were supposed to rendezvous for lunch and touch up any last minute changes.

“Got those speakers figured out yet, chief?” Benny called from the base of the ladder.

Castiel grunted an affirmative, wishing the older man would pay more attention to the ladder Castiel was currently standing on, rather than shouting up advice and questions that were more distracting than helpful.

“Please don’t let go,” he grumbled back down when the base wobbled a tad too much for his liking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin.’”

Castiel rolled his eyes and made one last check of the sound system cables before nodding and beginning his descent.

“Sure do got a way with your hands.”

Another comment. Castiel held back a groan and shrugged, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “When was the last time the speakers were cleaned, Benny?”

The older man grunted. “Not since I moved in.”

“You don’t think that’s a fire hazard?”

“Hasn’t failed me yet.”

Castiel didn’t stop the groan that time. This man was a walking death trap. He could see why he and Dean were close friends.

“So, Dean on his way with lunch yet?” Benny asked, patting Castiel’s shoulder as they wandered back to the kitchen to restock the beer.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “The group stopped by _Subway_ to get us some sandwiches.”

“Ain’t they called subs?”

Castiel only grunted in reply. He started pulling out beer out of the boxes and stuffed them in the ice coolers set up on the table.

“So, speaking of Dean…” Benny trailed off.

Castiel leveled his gaze at him.

He’d sensed this conversation coming for some time. It started a few months back, when all of Dean’s friends started looking at him differently. And not just him. They were looking at _Dean_ different too.

Clearly, something in all of their relationships had changed. He had a strange foreboding that it was because of himself.

“You two seem pretty close. What’s it been, four months now? Nearly five?”

“Ten years and five months,” Castiel replied easily, wishing it sounded less memorized. “Counting childhood.”

“So you two got a pretty good thing goin’ on.”

Castiel hesitated as he closed the cooler. “Thing?” His eyebrows furrowed together as Benny shrugged.

“Just pointin’ out facts there, chief. You two seem awfully close… closer than anybody else I’ve seen Dean with.”

Castiel swallowed and glanced down at the beers in his hands.

He’d hoped no one else had noticed. He wouldn’t deny that the thought of Dean like _that_ hadn’t crossed his mind. The thought of him, Dean, maybe trying things out together, seeing just how _good_ they could be as partners, a team against the world.

The idea made his lick his lips, heart beating faster with want. But he always cut the thought short. He knew it wouldn’t work out. He was realistic, after all.

Dean was excellent. He was good, and kind to his friends, kinder to strangers too. He made everyone feel included, kept team spirit up. He didn’t care about superficial things like what people wore or who they liked.

He had his flaws, of course. Like the way he wouldn’t turn his music down or kept Castiel up at night asking questions like, “What if aliens really _do_ exist Cas? How’d that change our lives?” Those conversations usually kept Castiel up till three in the morning, filled with garbled threats that Dean would ignore until he eventually passed out himself.

He was also too clean. Too meticulous. He scrubbed everything within an inch of it’s life and always made it his mission to keep their dorm _perfect_. It was infuriating. But it was also strangely nice, reading on his bed as Dean silently worked around him, picking up clothes and organizing hampers, tying up trash bags and replacing air fresheners.

He was tidy, usually polite--for the most part--and never hesitated to help out wherever he was needed. Sometimes he dragged his feet, but he’d always go.

It was hard not to like Dean. Castiel wanted to blame his growing attraction on the fact that they’d recently found each other again, after all this time, but he knew it was more than that too. It was the easy conversations, the quiet stillness that never needed to be filled. It was the ridiculous music and annoying habits that filled out each of their characters and made them just a little bit smarter, and maybe, just a little bit fonder.

Castiel bit the inside of his cheek and opened the second cooler.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Castiel said finally, dropping the next round of beers into the ice. “We’re friends.”

“Pretty sure that’s not what Dean’s feeling,” Benny said.

Castiel choked. “W-What?”

Benny’s gaze was cool, unnerved by the bluntness of his statement. “Dean doesn’t do feelings, chief. I ain’t ever seen him this set on a person. Guy stares at you like ya’ hung the stars just for him.”

Castiel briefly wondered if this was a prank. But Benny wasn’t any better at humor than Cas was. He was sarcastic, but never made punchlines. His gaze was calm. He was dead serious.

Castiel stared at him in wonder, unsure of how to respond.

In the end, he didn’t have to.

The front door swung open and they heard Dean shout across the house, “Who wants subs?”

...

It was finally the Christmas party, and the celebration was going late and strong. It was nearly midnight, and anyone who wasn’t smashed was at least tipsy, and Castiel did not make the exception.

A pleasant buzz settled in his system, making him hum as he sipped his beer. He wasn’t sure how many he’d had at this rate. But he’d always held his liquor well. One too many shenanigans after school in Nebraska had made him famous. At least now he was legal drinking age.

He wasn’t sure, but he heard Dean was dirty dancing Benny, both of them stone faced drunk and giggling. Castiel shook his head and chuckled.

Over the last several months, he’d learned enough about Dean to know he didn’t consider himself a dancer. But damn if half the school didn’t know about the talent of that man’s hips.

Castiel almost stumbled into the main room, watching through the throng of people as Dean and Benny clasped hands, fake waltzing and laughing as they spun around in circles.

He felt a substantial pang of jealousy, something he didn’t expect to feel while tipsy in a crowd full of strangers. He wanted to be the one Dean was pulling close, laughing close enough to feel his breath, feeling his body against his like there was nothing between them.

He convinced himself it was the beer talking. But he knew he was sober enough to tell the difference.

It was something he’d been thinking about for a while. Never seriously, of course. He had to remind himself, alarmingly often, to stay realistic. But the thought was there. The _desire_ was there.

It should have been disturbing. Dean was his childhood friend, the kid he used to make mud pies with and clash wooden blades with. But he was also the young man who stayed up late with him and blasted his music too loud. He was the guy who thought he was _trans_.

But he was also the one who never made him feel uncomfortable about the way he dressed. And he listened to Castiel ramble about bees and engaged him in conversations about nature and politics.

Dean was smart, and kind, and was the easiest person Castiel had ever gotten along with in his life. He was also probably the only person who actually knew the most about him, and also a general idea of his childhood.

Castiel blamed the alcohol again and took a hard pull from his beer. He almost choked when he felt a hard tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Dean barely an inch away from his face, beaming.

“ _Shit_ ,” Castiel sputtered, covering his mouth before he could dribble his beer everywhere. “What are you doing, Dean?”

“ _Hm_ ,” Dean hummed, wrapping a hand around Castiel’s, making him start. “Was thinkin’ I wanted to dance with you. Or something.”

Castiel stared at him in disbelief. “You’re drunk.”

“Well, a little,” Dean waved his hand dismissively. “But I was thinkin’ you look super hot standing over here all by yourself… and I really wanted ta’ join you and maybe hold your hand and shit. You know. So you aren’t alone. Don’t like seein’ you alone Cas.”

Castiel’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Benny’s earlier words rattled in his head as he let go of Dean’s hand and took a step back.

“Dean, you’re drunk, and I think you need a break.”

Dean frowned, suddenly serious. He looked down at his hand, then up at Castiel’s eyes. His gaze was almost… sad.

“Don’t you know I like you?”

Castiel’s heart thundered.

“We’re friends, Dean. Of course I know.”

“No, _like_ you. Told ya’ last week. Over coffee. You’re the best person I know, Cas. I don’t... usually say that stuff.”

 _I know_. Castiel wanted to say it, but he bit his tongue. He knew Dean didn’t do emotions. He knew from Benny,  and from his friends and the way they all stared at him whenever Castiel walked into a room. It used to confuse him, but after a while, plus Benny’s talk, it was perfectly clear.

The problem wasn’t if Dean liked him. The problem was that Dean _shouldn’t_.

Dean was a good person. But there was no way he was _that_ good. Castiel hadn’t met anyone that good before, aside from Anna. But that was it. And until he knew, he wasn’t going to let Dean make any foolish decisions while he was intoxicated.

“You don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Castiel said firmly, hating himself when Dean’s face fell.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, almost convincing Castiel he might be more sober than he thought. “I do know. I wanna’ try, Cas. I wanna’ try us out. I think we’d make it.”

“You don’t know what we’d make,” Castiel said, more firmly this time. He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed, hoping to make his point clear. “Dean, you’re drunk, and you’re not in the right frame of mind to talk about this. We can talk about it later, but first, maybe sleep this off.”

Dean’s eyes lowered to the floor, and he nodded.

“I’ll call Jo over. She’ll drive us home, okay?”

Another nod.

The drive home was quiet. It was filled only with the sound of Jo’s pop rock and half-hearted conversation. Castiel didn’t elaborate on why they needed to leave early. But she must have figured it out pretty quick after a look at Dean’s face.

She dropped them off in front of their building, and Dean shrugged off any attempts to let Castiel help him up the stairs to their room.

Castiel’s heart panged in remorse, but he still felt he made the right decision.

He unlocked the door, allowing Dean the room to slip inside and fall into bed. By the sound of it, he’d smacked his head into the wall. The groan after confirmed it.

“Dean…” Castiel sighed, flicking on the light. Dean groaned again and pulled a pillow over his face. “I want to talk to you. Dean.”

Dean grumbled incoherently, then rolled over and peeked out from under the pillow.

“Turn off the lights. ‘T hurts.”

Castiel rolled his eyes but did as he was told. By the time he turned around again, Dean was fumbling to turn on the lamp, letting out a low frequency light that softened the room in gentle color.

“Better,” he heard Dean mumble.

Castiel walked over and pulled up a chair from Dean’s desk, sitting in it so he could look at Dean carefully.

“Dean, I want to talk about what happened at Benny’s party.”

“It’s stupid,” Dean grumbled. “It’s stupid and we should just forget it happened. I’m dumb, it’s fine.”

“That’s not it Dean,” Castiel sighed. “You’re not dumb, and it’s not stupid. It’s just… complicated.”

This caught Dean’s attention. He poked his head out from under the pillow again, this time setting it below his head so he could squint up at Castiel.

“What’ya mean, complicated?”

Castiel stared at him for a solid minute, unsure of how to continue. He gathered up his nerve, and started slow, cautious. “It’s not that I don’t want to date you Dean. I don’t want you to date me thinking I’m someone that I’m not.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed in confusion, lines popping up on his forehead and in the creases by his nose as he thought each word through carefully. “Wha… But you’re Cas.”

“Yes,” Castiel replied. “Remember when you asked if I was trans?”

A slow nod was his only reply. The look of confusion was still present.

“I’m not trans. I’m agender.”

“I… what?” If possible, Dean squinted harder. He sat up slowly, groaning as he held his head. Once steadied, he leveled another firm stare at Castiel’s gaze. “A-what?”

“Agender,” Castiel said simply. “I’m neither male or female. Although, sometimes I’m fluid, and I feel more masculine or feminine depending on the day. It’s complicated Dean. I don’t want you to date me if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Dean frowned. His eyes scrunched up until they closed. He counted Dean’s breathing as the silence stretched out.

He counted twenty five before Dean opened his eyes and mumbled out, “So… So you’re going to have to explain this again when I’m sober.”

Castiel nodded solemnly.

“But, uh…” Dean continued, scratching his head, then grinning. “I can date you, though?”

Castiel laughed, dumbfounded, but not unhappy at the badly slurred question.

“Yes, Dean. Of course you can. I’d love that. But we need to be clear about things first.”

Dean beamed, chuckling like he was high, before he abruptly leaned forward and pressed his head against Castiel’s chest.

“I can _date_ you.”

Castiel grinned and shook his head, slowly pushing Dean back until he was pressed into the mattress once more.

“Sleep Dean. We can talk in the morning.”

Dean nodded sleepily and grinned, holding Castiel’s hand tightly in his own. He brought it up to his lips and kissed his palm, making Castiel blush. Then, he dropped it, and began to snore.

Castiel smiled and turned out the light.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter after this! i might add an extra if i don't include the epilogue in the next update. we'll see! thank you guys for reading. i hope you like it!

“So… agender, huh?”

Dean was clearly still wrapping his head around it. But he was significantly sober, pressing an ice pack to his head as he slowly spooned chicken noodle soup into his mouth. He made happy faces whenever he bit down, which made Castiel smile, since he’d worked hard at it when Dean woke up complaining about cravings.

“Yes,” Castiel replied. He watched Dean eat from across the table, uncertain of what to say or do. As promised, he’d explained everything again once Dean woke up and was coherent enough to understand. Surprisingly enough, he remembered most of what happened the previous night, saving both of them embarrassment and a lot of awkward detail sharing.

Dean nodded seriously and stared at the spoon sitting in front of his mouth, judging it silently before pushing it in and chewing quietly.

He swallowed but didn’t speak. Castiel dared not break the silence.

“So…” Dean said, finally, setting down the spoon. He leveled his gaze at Castiel, uncertainty written clear as day across his face. “Is there anything I can do? To help?”

Castiel stared at him. A slow smile spread across his face, and he felt the familiar bloom of warmth reach out inside his chest, taking root and pulling everything up with it. He laughed and covered his face.

“Did I say something wrong?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head, waved his hand in reassurance.

“No, Dean,” he replied. “You said nothing wrong at all.”

…

They didn’t really discuss dating again. But that afternoon they sat together on the floor and Castiel explained his favorite fashion styles and what he’d always found to be the most comfortable. After sharing that he was actually low on clothes that were still in one piece, Dean grinned and grabbed Castiel’s hand, pulling him onto Dean’s bed where they sat shoulder to shoulder, browsing online stores for anything Castiel liked.

“So, what pronouns should I use?” Dean asked, a week after Christmas Break started. They’d both gone home to their respective families, but Dean had learned the art of Skype, and they used it almost nightly.

“I’m okay being called _he_ ,” Castiel explained. “But, sometimes I can’t stand it. I have bad days.”

“What should I refer to you as? On bad days?” Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. “ _They_ is fine. But I don’t like it. I don't feel like a plural, Dean.”

Dean laughed, but nodded. “I think I can get that. I can do some research if you like?”

Castiel blushed and gave him permission. He was secretly thrilled by how much Dean was investing in learning about Castiel, who he was as a human being. The only other person who’d done that for him was Anna. Anna, who he was still talking to weekly, and was ecstatic to hear about Castiel’s new relationship.

“You realize you’re going to have to introduce him to me eventually,” she winked across the screen.

Castiel flushed red, but nodded anyway.

Castiel met Sam, again. It was online, of course, but it did nothing to dampen the surprise of baby Sammy’s massive height and pronounced dimples. Apparently hot genes ran in the Winchester family.

He caught up with Sam, learned about the inside details of Sam's classes that Dean was never able to share, and listened to him talk about the colleges he was looking at.

Dean said the kid would probably head off to California for greater things. Castiel was compelled to agree.

He also met Dean’s ‘other’ friends, ones who didn’t go to Kansas University but still stayed in touch with Dean.

Charlie was buoyant and beautiful. She had bright eyes and a contagious spirit that never failed to make Castiel excited.

Also, by getting to know her, Castiel felt like he was learning more about another layer of Dean.

Dean, the nerd, who Castiel had already met, yes. But this was the nerd who could apparently quote Vonnegut and had all of Star Trek season one memorized by heart. He listened to tales of LARP-ing, heard about Dean’s summer jobs at an auto-shop throughout his high school years.

These were things Dean had already mentioned to him, but Dean had an unfortunate disability for details when it came to telling stories that didn’t relate to books, movies, or television shows. He was working on it.

When Christmas break ended, they both returned to their dorms with added weights of clothes and food. But when Dean unpacked his new box of clothes, Castiel knew it wasn’t for Dean.

“I, uh, remembered what your favorite brand was,” Dean mumbled, blushing scarlet as he pushed the box towards Castiel. “I hope the material’s right.”

Castiel stared in wonder. He knelt down and pulled out the different shirts, jeans, accessories, holding them up to himself in surprise.

“You… bought these for me?”

“Well,” Dean mumbled. “My mom helped. She said she didn’t trust me near a mall to save my life.”

Castiel leaned over and kissed him. It was their first kiss, one that neither of them regretted at all.

Castiel packed all of the new clothes into his dresser, pushing away wandering and ticklish hands as he set the last of his things away.

That first kiss became their first everything else. They didn’t leave their dorm for anything other than the bathroom and food for the following two days before classes started on the third.

As they walked to their first lecture, everyone saw them hand in hand.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thank you so much for reading this fic. i know it wasn't very long, but it was never intended to be. i hope you have enjoyed each chapter, and i hope you love the epilogue too.
> 
> also, to those of you who have commented, thank you SO much! i've especially loved seeing how some of you have been able to relate to cas and his identity. that was feedback i felt blessed to receive, and i'm so grateful for it. 
> 
> thank you for reading!! please enjoy the epilogue :)
> 
> (also, apologies for any mistakes. i'll edit later this week.)

“Cas!” Dean shouted from the living room. “I can’t find the damn hole puncher!”

“Office supplies are in the box by the TV!” Cas called back, grinning when the sound of a large thud echoed through the rooms. His fiance’s curses quickly followed.

Cas chuckled and closed the lid of the now empty kitchen box, glancing around to make sure everything was in order.

It was still so strange to him, even after so much time had passed. College had passed by in what felt like moments. Classes took up nearly all their time, but every moment in between was special and held close in Castiel’s heart.

He remembered getting the chance to meet Dean’s family in person again, for the first time in over a decade. Mary was just as beautiful as Castiel remembered, Dean’s father just as gruff and skeptical. Sam had hugged him till he could barely breathe, only lessened when Dean softened it with a hug of his own.

Over the years, he’d grown to truly know all of Dean’s family again. Now, it was four years later, and they were both working hard to achieve their dreams of teaching. Halfway through his schooling, Castiel had decided to take a step back and teach elementary classes instead of his own college courses. Something about the idea of shaping  young minds while they were still in their early stages stuck out to Cas, made him want to apply more of his focus to children and their innocence. There was so much for them to learn, and he was thrilled with the idea and privilege of being allowed to teach them.

Dean, on the other hand, was still enrolled in his classes, working hard to become a professor of mathematics.

Sam and Cas teased him about becoming a robot scientist. Dean would promptly roll his eyes and go back to his textbook.

“You say that like robots are lame,” he’d often grumble. But Castiel could see the smile on Dean’s face, only amplified by a kiss to the corner of his lips.

Castiel couldn’t understand numbers. But he loved Dean’s passion for them. He had the mind of an engineer. He could do anything he set his mind to. It was only a matter of time.

And now, they’d bought their first home and had a wedding scheduled for March. When they’d talked about where they would hold the ceremony, Dean blushed and mumbled, “You remember that field we used to play in? Near the church our parents used to go too?”

“Yes?” Castiel had replied. It’d been one of the bad days, and it was late, far past both of their bedtimes. “Why?”

“Do you… think we could get married there?”

Even in the darkness, partially hidden by sheets and blankets, Castiel could see Dean blushing scarlet. Castiel had grinned and pulled Dean close, kissing him soundly before replying, “That sounds perfect.”

Now they were set up in a neighborhood not far from that same field. Castiel had the privilege of seeing it every morning on his way to the school he’d be working at, come fall.

The thought warmed his heart, even as he heard Dean cursing more from their living room.

“Cas,” Dean almost whined, making Cas laugh. “Help!”

“Just hold on.”

He set the now empty box on the floor and wandered back to the living room, watching in amusement as Dean fruitlessly tried to shove half of the fallen office supplies back in their boxes. Somehow, he’d managed to knock over three of them in his search for the one by the TV, which also happened to be buried beneath several stacks of textbooks and folders.

“I thought we put all these in the trunk!” Dean complained, drawing his attention back to his fiance kneeling on the floor.

The man was pouting, eyes bright in a poor attempt to get Castiel’s sympathies. Cas shook his head and chuckled. Dean really didn’t have to try at all.

“We did, and then you took them out.”

“Why the hell would I do that?!”

“You were looking for your class notes. You forgot to punch them into your binder. That’s why you’re looking for the hole punch.”

Dean glared at him and sighed. “Sorry,” he grumbled. “I don’t like moving.”

“You’ve only ever moved once in your life, if I’m remembering correctly,” Cas reminded. He sat down in front of Dean, crossing his legs so he could help put the supplies away. “It’s understandable to be frazzled.”

“Hey!” Dean snapped, but his grin was returning. “For your information, I’ve moved twice. This counts.”

“Again, understandable that you are frazzled, Dean.”

Dean’s face flushed, but he didn’t correct him. Castiel counted it as a win.

They put away Dean’s things until Dean finally spotted the hole punch in the midst of the disaster.

“Found it!” He exclaimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Sam’s packing skills can kiss my ass!”

“At least Sam let all of us help him move into his dorm.”

Dean grinned and winked as Castiel pulled down Dean’s binders.

Just as he was handing them over, they heard the sound of the doorbell ringing. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Probably the neighbors,” he mumbled. “You want me to talk to them?”

“I got it,” Castiel replied. He leaned forward and kissed Dean, making sure not to hold it too long before Dean pulled him down and decided the neighbors weren’t worth answering. He got up and moved to the door, opening it to find three kids staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Can I help you?” Castiel asked in amusement, watching the way their gazes turned from him to each other.

“Uh,” the first one, a tall little girl, spoke first. “We just wanted ta’ see if the story was true.”

“Story?” Castiel asked. He heard movement to his left, and soon, Dean stood behind him, chin hooked over his shoulder.

“Who are you?” Dean asked curiously, grinning when the girl blushed. The two boys simply stared.

“We live across the street,” the first boy responded. “Uh… Momma’ said you were gonna’ be teaching at our school next year.”

“That’s right,” Castiel replied slowly, still uncertain why the children were staring. It wasn’t like he was dressed unusually… today. “Is that the story?”

The girl shook her head hard, pigtails flying. “No,” she rushed, “we just thought--”

“You’re not dressed funny!” The youngest boy, also the smallest, suddenly interrupted.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Castiel felt it was his turn to stare now.

Ah. So he was right. He wondered how many of the neighbors had seen him when they first came to check out the property, and how many of them knew about him and Dean. It seemed more than a few people had noticed.

“Why’s that?” The youngest continued, unaware of his blushing and stammering siblings.

Dean glanced at Cas, clearly unsure of how to treat the situation.

Castiel laughed. It seemed to catch the children off guard, so he knelt down in front of them and looked them in the eyes.

“Because I like to wear things that make me happy,” Castiel replied seriously. “Today, this is what makes me happy.”

“Daddy says you dress like a girl sometimes. But that some people like to do that,” the older boy mumbled.

“Your daddy’s not wrong,” Dean replied. Castiel nodded in agreement.

“The most important thing is that you’re happy just the way you are,” Castiel said simply. “Don’t you agree?”

The youngest and the girl nodded quickly, but the older boy seemed unconvinced. “So… it’s okay?”

“Very,” Castiel smiled. “Now, is that all you wanted to know? Or would you like to take some treats back to your parents?”

Their eyes lit up in unison and they quickly nodded. Dean laughed and clapped Castiel on the shoulder, walking back into the house to dig out one of the welcome pies he and Cas had made together. It wasn’t the biggest and grandest they’d ever made, but it would do for saying hello to their neighbors. Including the three children Castiel expected to see more of in the future.

“Okay, you think you can balance this?” Dean asked, handing out the cool tray. The oldest girl held out her arms and nodded. Castiel was certain she was old enough to hold big things safely.

“Okay. Say hello to your parents for us!” Dean ordered with a smile. The three nodded and quickly rushed back across the street, not waiting to shout at each other about their new neighbors.

“Well, they were cute,” Dean shrugged. Castiel smiled and closed the door, turning back to put his hands around Dean’s hips.

“Yes, I think so too,” he smiled. “Now, maybe if we’re lucky they might even learn about the number of genders out there.”

“Why?” Dean raised his eyebrows, leaning in close to peck Castiel’s lips. “Looking to change the world, Mr. Novak?”

“That’ll be Winchester soon.”

“You better believe it.”

**Author's Note:**

> me: lovefromdean.tumblr.com
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!


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